by E. M. Foner
“That’s what I was suggesting for training police,” Jorb put in.
“Earth is trying to attract students for universities back home so I don’t think they’ll go for it,” Samuel said.
“Not university, academy for children,” the Verlock elaborated. “Circuit ship visits their outposts on schedule, saves travel and expenses.” he concluded.
“Like a boarding school for kids in their teens,” Vivian said. “They have those back on Earth.”
“Start younger,” Wrylenth told her. “So much math, so little time.”
“Do you want to sit on our committee?” Jorb asked the Verlock. “It’s just the four of us so far.”
“Honored.”
“Zap your info to my tab,” Lizant said, rising from the table. “I’m in my final semester so I have seniority. I’ll stop by admin and get us all registered unless one of you objects.”
The Drazen and Verlock students shook their heads in the negative, and used their university tabs to send the Frunge girl their info, after which she set off for administration.
“Hey, I’ve got to run too.” Jorb got up and stretched his tentacle to grab an extra bar of fudge. “I have Interspecies Relations next period and I haven’t even looked at the required reading. Have Lizant ping me when she gets the time for our first official committee meeting.”
The Verlock shook his head at the departing Drazen in disapproval. “Required reading not optional.” A gurgling sound escaped from the bulky alien, and he looked suspiciously at the plate of fudge. “Must use facility.”
“That was interesting,” Vivian said after Wrylenth shuffled off at a highly accelerated rate for his species. “I figure if we’re going to be drafted for committee work, better to have some go-getters who will actually contribute than just a bunch of pretty alien faces.”
“They seemed alright to me,” Samuel agreed. “You should invite that Dollnick kid who the princeling chased off. He must be pretty motivated to approach us like that. I’ll ask a Horten girl in my Materials Engineering class.”
“Is she pretty?” Vivian asked suspiciously.
“Pretty shy. She changes color every time she has to say something, but she’s wicked smart. And she grew up on a Horten colony ship before they moved to the station.”
“You mean she spent her life on her way to a new world, and as soon as they got there, she left to come here?”
“No, they got there before she was born, but I gather it’s a major terraforming project. She mentioned something once about visiting the surface in a space suit, but they’re still working on the atmosphere. She’s majoring in Space Engineering with a minor in Terraforming so she can go back and help one day.”
Samuel’s tab chimed as an update to the still-open university announcement came through.
“What is it?” Vivian asked.
“A student committee has been formed to vet proposals for special project credit,” Samuel read. “See Samuel McAllister or Vivian Oxford for details.” He looked up in dismay. “It has our pictures.”
“Vivisect, Salmonella,” a Grenouthian hailed them confidently and took a seat at the table. “Long time no see.”
Three
“Blythe couldn’t make it?” Woojin asked the head of EarthCent Intelligence.
“She decided to sit this meeting out,” Clive replied. “She said something about too much alien testosterone in the room, but I think she’s just too busy trying to compete with Chastity on her new book publishing thing. Where’s Lynx?”
“Pre-playgroup meeting or something like that. She’s been steadily losing interest in the intelligence business since Em was born.”
“I asked them to reserve three seats for us and it’ll look bad if we leave one empty. I’d hate to pull Thomas off the camp right now because he and Chance have a holo training session planned for the new recruits today. Do you know if Judith is available?”
“I’ll ping her.” Woojin was silent for a moment, his throat barely moving as he held a brief subvoced conversation. “We’re in luck. She was on her way home and she can be here in a few minutes. I told her to just come in and find us when she arrives.”
“Then let’s get this show on the road.”
The two men entered the Verlock embassy and followed the holographic arrows on a serpentine course that took them through an impressive sculpture garden surrounded by slow-moving lava falls. Fortunately, the atmosphere in the conference room, while a little too dry, was appreciably cooler than the baking temperatures in the embassy’s lobby.
“Herl,” Clive greeted the Drazen head of intelligence who was already seated at the giant slab of stone from which the Verlocks had constructed a conference table. “You didn’t bring anybody with you?”
“I’m not expecting anything constructive to happen today. It’s been too long since the oxygen breathing Union Station species got together for an intelligence sit-down and I’m betting we’ll just waste a couple of hours insulting each other. You were wise to leave your women at home today.”
“Their choice,” Clive admitted. “Woojin just pinged Judith to come and fill in since I reserved three seats. I think you’ve met her.”
“The young woman with the sword. I took a bad beat from her the last time I made it to a poker game at Mac’s Bones. She had a king-high flush to my queen-high.”
“Can somebody turn up the air conditioning?” a Dollnick demanded loudly as he entered the conference room.
“Try taking off the cloak, Trume,” Herl suggested. “None of your spy toys will work in here anyway.”
The giant Dollnick shrugged off his cloak and draped it over the back of the outsized chair, revealing a bandolier of daggers and various high-tech gadgets strapped around his torso. “What’s with all the bunnies?” Trume asked the Drazen, gesturing at six burly Grenouthians who were grouped together on the opposite side of the table.
“I would guess that our furry counterpart is using the opportunity to give his interns a taste of intrigue.”
As if to confirm Herl’s speculation, the largest of the Grenouthians pointed across the table at the Drazen and said, “That’s the idiot who has been mentoring Human spies in order to curry favor with the Stryx.”
“The Humans who don’t know that Flower—”
“What did I tell you all about giving away information?” the Grenouthian intelligence head interrupted the young bunny.
“Don’t,” the five interns chorused in response.
“Is there something wrong with the Dollnick colony ship?” Woojin muttered to Clive.
“First I’m hearing about it. Herl?”
The Drazen shook his head. “Our intelligence on the subject is a few thousand years old and reads like rumors. Trume? Would you care to fill us in on Flower’s status?”
“What’s it worth to you?” the Dollnick replied grumpily.
“You see?” the top Grenouthian said to his interns. “That’s how to manage information.”
A pair of Vergallian men entered the conference room, scowled at everyone, and took seats at the end of the table. They were followed immediately by a Horten who had tattooed all of his visible skin a deep purple to prevent anyone from reading his emotions, and a Frunge with close-cropped hair vines. Then came a deep grinding sound and a section of floor at the head of the table slid aside. The chief of Verlock intelligence on the station slowly rose into the empty space, already seated on a chair.
“Fine entrance, Krylneth,” one of the Vergallians said with a sneer. “Now what was so important that you asked us all here? Ambassador Aainda is arriving to begin her term tomorrow and I have preparations to complete.”
“Like bugging her quarters?” the Frunge spy chief inquired. “A little bird told me that the new ambassador isn’t one of your imperial insiders.”
“What did I miss?” Judith asked in a whisper, slipping into the chair between Woojin and the giant Dollnick.
“Posturing,” her boss replied. “Oh, and according
to the Grenouthians, there’s something fishy about the Dollnick colony ship the Stryx arranged for us.”
“If I may,” Krylneth said slowly, though at a much faster clip than the typical Verlock spoke. “I invited you all to this sit-down in the interest of efficiency. My superiors wish to redeploy a portion of our resources to conflict zones beyond the limits of the tunnel network. I am interested in forming strategic partnerships to fill in the gaps that will be created.”
“Never believe a Verlock crying poor,” the Grenouthian leader remarked, though it wasn’t clear if he was making a statement for the general assembly or just for the elucidation of his interns.
“Nobody will buy into the story that you have budgetary constraints,” Trume said, folding his arms across his chest. “Since you obviously know that, why even try?”
“Do you think we became wealthy by spending like drunken Humans?” Krylneth retorted. Then he glanced down the table at Clive and his companions and said, “Sorry. It’s just an expression.”
“Exactly what sort of efficiencies are you hoping to achieve?” Herl inquired.
“We waste treasure duplicating each other’s efforts. My people spy on the Hortens, your people spy on the Hortens, all of us spy on the Hortens. Perhaps we have special sources worth protecting, but do we really need eight different spy agencies to keep track of every little thing?”
“You suggest that each of us keep tabs on one of the other species here and then we pool all the information?”
“Why don’t we take it a step further and just spy on ourselves?” the Grenouthian chief cracked, drawing an appreciative laugh from his interns. “Imagine the savings on travel alone.”
“My own analysis suggests that three-to-one would be the ideal ratio,” Krylneth continued unperturbed. “My agency would continue keeping a close watch on our Grenouthian friends, who are our closest competitors, plus one of either the Dollnicks or Vergallians, and the rest of you could vote on the third.”
“Eight intelligence agencies, three assignments each,” Trume said. “That could work well. Do we simply state our preference, or should we draw names out of a hat?”
“Dibs on the Humans, both ways,” one of the Vergallians cried.
“Not a chance,” the purple-faced Horten said. “The idea is for all of us to reduce our costs by spreading the load around, not to let the same agency reap the benefits of a trivial target topped by savings on counterintelligence. Either you can spy on Humans or have them spy on you.”
“Yeah, pick one,” the Grenouthian growled.
“Are they insulting us?” Judith asked Woojin.
“They’re just warming up,” he cautioned her.
“Why don’t we bundle the Gem with the Humans?” Trume suggested. “The clones still manufacture some neat spy gadgets, but they shut down most of their intelligence operations when their empire folded.”
“Throw in the Cherts,” the Horten suggested. “They don’t have any worlds to spy on anyway.”
“I resent that,” a Chert voice protested from within an invisibility field.
“Are you making a serious proposal, Krylneth, or is this a cheap way to figure out which of the other species each of us is the most paranoid about?” Herl asked.
“Just planting a seed for the future,” the Verlock admitted. “According to the recently published and highly authoritative tome Verlocks For Humans, that is one of our most outstanding traits as a species.”
“Uh oh,” Clive muttered, nudging Woojin. “I’ve been expecting this.”
“Along with a predilection for applying mathematical proofs to concepts that nobody else accepts are reducible to equations,” the senior Grenouthian added. “The poor analyst I assigned to summarize that book kept falling asleep at his desk, and now he goes around the office talking in bullet points and drawing imaginary frames in the air.”
“And his summary?” Krylneth inquired.
“He only needed two words, one of which he assigned to each and every sentence of the book. I don’t recall the exact sequence, but it went something like, ‘obvious, obvious, wrong, obvious, wrong, wrong, wrong, obvious…’”
“You must be talking about Verlocks For Humans,” Jeeves interrupted from the doorway. “I offered to write it for them but apparently my price was too high.”
“Thank you for accepting my invitation,” the Verlock addressed the Stryx, drawing a murmur from the other species. “When my sources confirmed that Flower was indeed on her way to Union Station for assignment to the Humans, I thought it would be best to seek input from her handlers. While my species maintains excellent relations with EarthCent, this represents an unprecedented move on your part.”
“Flower is fully sentient and as such cannot be assigned to anyone,” Jeeves corrected him. “On the successful completion of her last mission, Gryph asked her if she was willing to spend some time helping a young species get their house in order, and she graciously agreed.”
“And all this time I thought that the Stryx liked Humans,” Trume said under his breath.
“Aren’t you worried about Flower sharing your secrets with her new crew?” the Horten asked the Dollnick.
“She’s…detached from active service, not a traitor,” Trume replied indignantly, and then made a visible effort to restrain himself from speaking further.
“You are talking about a technology upgrade that catapults the Humans past the Drazens and Hortens,” the Frunge pointed out to the young Stryx.
“All of Flower’s advanced technology is self-serviced and protected from physical access,” Jeeves reassured them. “We installed a few extra security layers on board at her own insistence when we first persuaded her to take work with other species.”
“But Flower is armed and she will be serving Human interests,” Krylneth pointed out.
“We’re getting a navy?” Judith asked out loud.
The Grenouthian intelligence head guffawed loudly, and was imitated by his flock of interns. The Horten and Vergallians laughed as well, and the Dollnick suddenly looked a little more cheerful.
“No, I don’t think that’s an accurate characterization,” Jeeves said cautiously.
“We don’t have anything to go on other than what Libby told the ambassador,” Clive said to the Stryx. “I gather that we are talking about a Dollnick colony ship that is self-aware, but why isn’t she busy transporting colonists?”
“I’m not comfortable discussing a fellow AI behind her back, so to speak. She’ll be arriving soon and I’m sure she’ll be happy to answer any of your questions once you go onboard.”
“Will she be spying on us for the Dollnicks?”
Trume began making untranslatable whistling sounds which the humans recognized as a fit of hysteria, and the Grenouthians snorted and slapped their bellies until there were tears coming from their eyes. Even the normally staid Verlock turned away from the table for a moment to regain his composure, and when Clive glanced over to see how Herl was reacting, the Drazen spymaster was biting his tentacle to maintain control.
“Are you all laughing because she won’t be spying on us or because we aren’t worth spying on?” Clive demanded.
“I’m just laughing because everybody else is,” Herl said apologetically. “It’s contagious. The rumors suggested that Flower is difficult, if that’s any help.”
On the word ‘difficult,’ the Dollnick broke out in fresh volleys of whistles, and the Grenouthian head of intelligence would have slid under the table if he hadn’t stuck on his voluminous belly.
“As a ship’s AI, Flower keeps close tabs on everything that occurs onboard, and she has also proven to be adept at intercepting communications,” Jeeves said. “One of her conditions for this assignment is unlimited Stryxnet access, which she intends to utilize in pursuit of her education. A good colony ship requires a great deal of information for optimal functionality. But it wouldn’t be right to say that she will be spying on you anymore than it would be to say that Gryph is spying on y
ou.”
“Difficult,” Trume gasped, pointing at Herl. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. Can I use it?”
“Come on, Jeeves,” Clive said. “I can be a good sport, but it doesn’t make sense that the people getting Flower are the only ones who don’t know anything about her.”
“Pay me,” the Dollnick demanded. “I don’t care, a twenty-cred piece will be fine. It’s the principle of the thing.”
“You’re willing to sell us intelligence?” Woojin asked as he fished for a coin.
“Why not? Think of it as a step towards Krylneth’s proposal. You’re going to find out about Flower soon enough anyway and I’d rather be here to see it.”
“I’ve got it,” Judith said, slapping a coin down in front of Trume. “What’s so funny?”
“She doesn’t listen,” the Dollnick said, and he literally hugged himself with all four arms as if to hold in his laughter.
“You mean we can’t give instructions because she turns off her audio pickups?” Clive asked.
“There’s nothing wrong with her hearing. She just doesn’t listen.”
“You have to relay her instructions in writing?”
“We would still be using her as a colony ship if that were the case,” Trume said. “Our ship AIs are more a byproduct of complexity than an intentional outcome, so we’re accustomed to dealing with eccentricities. But as Flower matured, she simply stopped listening.”
“Is there a translation glitch here, Jeeves?” Clive demanded. “I don’t understand what he’s trying to say.”
“Perhaps an example would help,” the Stryx reluctantly suggested to the Dollnick spymaster.
“When you get on a lift tube and tell it to take you to a restaurant, where do you end up?” Trume asked.
“A restaurant?” Clive replied cautiously.
“Flower would be more likely to bring you to a recreation deck and suggest that you could use the exercise.”
“And if I insisted on a restaurant?”
“She’d be happy to open the hatch to a maintenance ladder for you. Colony ships are riddled with them. Either way, you’re going to burn some calories.”